Verse 1: Peter the Disciple 
  
 I walk in hell, bucking and fighting, scratching and biting 
 Throwing bows, showing gold's, and smoking dro's 
 Drinking yak in the back, presidential 
 Hand in hand with the devil, my team imperial 
 We don't hang with that busta they call Miracle 
 The First Disciple, 30 shots from the rifle 
 Grab his soul like a reaper 
 A.k.a. better known as Lil' Peter 
 Light 'em up with the powder 
 Best believe I'm a rider 
 The Pastor said sic him and whoever else with 'em 
 And watch me and my boys go and flip him, we ready 
  
 (Pastor Troy) 
 I think somebody's bout to die (4x then to background of hook) 
  
 Hook: 4x 
  
 You say you want me, but you betta brang yo army 
 Dez Georgia Rebels ain't gone let nobody harm me 
  
 Verse 2: Blackout 
  
 Killa, disabled, stable, mentally challenged the name 'em 
 But yet I manage over God given talents 
 Enter near it, cause ravage and repercussions, and damages 
 Pimpin' at them, Iceberg slim, seeking Titanic 
 Creeping steady slow 
 Bobin' and weavin' we broke a do' 
 Complication rules the nation so I roll while I smoke 
 This one goes out to my folk 
 This one they caught in they smoke 
 Bungey jumping, hang gliding, and sliding of ski slopes 
 Went from selling busta's dope, over used to be coke 
 I can't cope, cut throat, rhymes over dope 
 I go fo' broke 
  
 Verse 3: Pinhead 
  
 Smoking on that reefer, with the street sweepers 
 Suckers I got wiped up can't run from the grand reaper 
 Peep a, Miracle game so lame that you can't show 
 You tried to steal a track from the Pastor and got caught 
 I brought my freaking folks 
 My folks that keep it real 
 We drinking on that Brandi and we handy with the steel 
 Better guard yo grill, hard to kill, like Steven Segal 
 Cause when I see him fall, I'ma shatter his brains against the wall 
  
 (Pastor Troy) 
  
 I think somebody's bout to die 4x then to background of hook 
  
 Hook: 4x 
  
 You say you want me, but you betta brang yo army 
 Dez Georgia rebels ain't gone let nobody harm me 
  
 Verse 4: Pastor Troy 
  
 Okay they got me last and I'm mad 
 And I'm ready to fight 
 One hundred eighty pounds strong, but watch how I bite 
 They takin flight, cause this buster ackin' like my amigo 
 Hit 'em seventeen times with that chrome desert eagle 
 These my people, in Georgia, ignore ya, I can't 
 Get dumped off in Miami riding on candy paint 
 Now would you believe I got a body in my trunk? 
 I'm crunk out the window, hell yeah!, I shot the punk 
 The first to dump, the first one that punk scatter 
 I'm high I'm drunk, put I'm still labeled that Pastor 
 So any bastard, that got plans to harm me 
 You best of be ready cause I got a army 
  
 (Pastor Troy) 
  
 I think somebody's bout to die 4x then to background of hook 
  
 Hook till end 
  
 You say you want me, but you betta brang yo army 
 Dez Georgia Rebels ain't gone let nobody harm me